


Four times Castiel protected Dean with his wings

by Silent_So_Long



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Schmoop, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-12
Updated: 2011-08-12
Packaged: 2017-10-22 13:39:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/238627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silent_So_Long/pseuds/Silent_So_Long
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The summary’s in the title - the four times Castiel protected Dean with his wings! XD</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four times Castiel protected Dean with his wings

**Author's Note:**

> written for the deancaskink [Wings theme](http://deancaskink.livejournal.com/1627.html) prompt, left by angel_kink - _Cas uses his wings to protect Dean. Whether Dean can see them is up to the author. The circumstances are also up to the author. It can be anything from protecting him from the rain (awwwww) to protecting him from a bullet (fuck yeah!) or both or all or something else who knows. Have fun with it._
> 
>   
> [](http://deancaskink.livejournal.com/1627.html)
> 
> ~~~
> 
> This fic is now available translated into German; all credit goes to IamJohnlocked!
> 
> [Four Times Castiel Protected Dean With His Wings](http://www.fanfiktion.de/s/51eab8d0000253012de03f7a/1/Four-times-Castiel-protected-Dean-with-his-wings)
> 
> (thank you so much, IamJohnlocked, for doing the translation! You‘re awesome!)

  
**~ 1 ~**   


Dean stood alone, looking out over the frozen lake that bordered one edge of the motel’s boundaries. Ducks fluttered and skimmed across the surface, wings flared as their webbed feet attempted scant perches on the thick ice. The hunter pulled his coat further around himself, shivering from the cold as the first fat flakes of winter snow fell from an iron grey sky. They settled upon Dean’s hair, some catching in the man’s eyelashes, causing Dean to blink them away rapidly.

The snow was starting to get a little heavier when Castiel arrived, wings flapping in the frigid air as he landed gracefully beside Dean. Dean, all too used to the angel’s sudden appearances, didn’t flinch, already alerted to his presence by the sound of feathers cutting through icy air.

“Hey, Cas,” he said, a little more morosely than he’d intended, as he glanced in the angel’s direction.

Castiel was staring intently at Dean, dark blue eyes warmer than the air around them, as he tilted his head towards the frozen hunter.

“Are you alright?” the angel asked, breath steaming from his mouth as he spoke.

“Yeah. Just cold,” Dean replied, with a nonchalant shrug. “I should be going in soon, anyway.”

Castiel didn’t reply; instead, he remained staring at Dean fixedly. Dean saw a slight shimmer in the air around Castiel’s body, wings forming in shadowy waves to stretch out behind the angel’s slim vessel. Dean stared, unused to actually seeing the shadowy impression of his angel’s wings; after all, he’d only seen brief glimpses of them on a couple occasions in the past.

Castiel stepped closer, a little hesitantly, before he rested one hand upon Dean’s shivering forearm, as though pinning the hunter into place. There was a shimmying effect in the air then, feathers sliding through frigid, snow-bound air, before the hunter felt the unmistakable feel and warmth of feathers surrounding him. He closed his eyes, completely cocooned by the angel’s wings, as Castiel stepped closer still. Dean felt Castiel’s arms slide around his waist, one warm peck of a kiss capturing his mouth in an all too brief kiss, before Castiel leant away slightly. The pressure of the wings surrounding Dean didn’t abate however and he was glad of the warmth of them against his shivering body. His shivers slowly fell away and he settled closer into Castiel’s body- and wing-warmth gratefully.

“Feeling better?” Castiel asked, gruff voice sending tickling breaths against Dean’s cheek.

“Yeah, just peachy,” Dean replied, gruffly.

Castiel didn’t seem to mind the gruffness, all too used to it from the elder Winchester by now. Instead, he wrapped his wings a little closer around Dean’s body, as the snow fell in thick eddies around their still forms.

  
**~ 2 ~**   


It should have been an easy salt and burn case, digging endlessly down into a long filled grave, to get to the body inside. At first, it had been going well, mud giving beneath Dean’s spade, as Sam readied the salt and the lighter fluid. Then the rain had started, drenching the ground in seconds and turning the mud wet and sloppy. Dean had started cursing loudly at the same time as Castiel had appeared, glaring down at the earth-bound elder Winchester with stern blue eyes.

He remained silent, however, watching as Dean climbed out of the hole, hands slipping in the soft mud at the side of the grave. Castiel finally reached down, pulling Dean effortlessly from the grave, as Sam squirted the lighter fluid and scattered the salt upon the bones below.

Castiel turned an intense gaze upon Dean as the hunter shivered imperceptibly against the rivulets of water running past his collar, before his wings unfurled, rippling through the water filled air to wrap one solidly around Dean’s body. Dean could feel the heat from the feathers, against his back, felt the pressure of one edge tilting over his head to shelter him from the rain.

Sam, standing in the other side of the open grave, was too far away from Castiel’s reach, and the angel made no attempt to close the distance between them. Dean was suddenly glad for that, however; Castiel’s wings, felt and yet unseen, were a pleasure he wanted all to himself. He didn’t consider it something he wanted to share with his brother.

He didn’t say anything, however; instead, he nodded a terse thanks to the angel beside him, and received an enigmatic smile in return, barely there and gone before it was fully formed. They waited in silence as Sam flicked a lit match into the grave, lighter fluid just catching alight before the match sputtered out in the deluge. Castiel angled his free wing out across the grave, spanning the hole to shield the flames from the rain. They watched in silence, Dean stepping a little closer into Castiel’s half wing-embrace as the flames danced and crackled over bones below.

  
**~ 3 ~**   


Dean really hated witches, something he hadn’t kept a secret in all the years he’d been hunting with his brother. That day, gave him extra ammunition for his hatred, because what should have been an easy witch-hunt had rapidly gone south of Heaven very fast.

The witch, when they’d finally cornered her in an old abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town, had promptly pulled a gun after Castiel had managed to counter each and every one of her hastily thrown spells and curses. Sam was somewhere left-field of her, inching round to get to her unprotected back, when the gun had appeared, held steadily pointing at Dean. A sharp crack filled the air and Castiel was bowling towards Dean, arms and wings folding protectively around Dean’s body instantly.

Two seconds later and Dean felt the sharp thud of impact shivering through him, from where the bullet had collided with Castiel’s wing, The angel grunted in sudden pain, but his wing held. No tears or wounds appeared in the strong feathered appendage, and the soft “plink” of the bullet hitting the ground could be heard next.

The witch screamed in frustration and attempted to shoot them again, meeting with the same effect every time. The bullets ricocheted from Castiel’s wing as he pulled himself tighter around Dean’s body, eyes closed with concentration. Dean held onto him, knowing that the angel was trying to protect him, as the witch screamed again from outside the protective cocoon of Castiel’s feathery embrace.

That time, the scream was different, pain filled and strident, swiftly followed by a hoarse litany of Latin incantations slipping effortlessly from Sam’s lips. The witch screamed again, but the sound was weaker, smaller somehow, before the warehouse fell silent. Castiel carefully unfolded himself from around Dean, hands checking the hunter’s body as if checking for wounds. Of course, there weren’t any and Dean batted the angel’s hands away a little gruffly.

“Dude, I’m fine,” he snapped, a little embarrassed by Castiel’s show of concern.

“You are,” Castiel agreed, with some relief.

“How’s your wing?” Dean asked, then, feeling like the biggest heel in the world, for snapping at Castiel when the angel had effectively saved his life.

“Fine,” Castiel replied, tersely, angling the shadowed appendage around and examining it awkwardly.

Sam joined them, as the angel’s retracted his wings back into his vessel, bright blue eyes turning to the taller Winchester curiously.

“She’s gone,” Sam confirmed to Castiel’s unspoken question.

“Good,” Castiel replied, awkwardly, as Dean grunted something nonsensical beside him.

Sam nodded, feet clinking through the spent bullets that littered the floor at their feet. He cast a glance between Dean and Castiel, seeing no damage to either one of them. Dean merely shrugged, and Castiel stared outright at Sam, almost in defiance. Sam shrugged back, before he turned to leave.

The trio trooped silently from the depths of the warehouse, Castiel hampered only slightly by a brief tug at the sleeve of his coat from Dean. Dean looked uncomfortable as he jabbed one thumb over his shoulder at the warehouse behind them.

“Thanks, man, for what you did in there,” the hunter said, sounding as uncomfortable as he looked.

It wasn’t often Dean had cause to thank anyone, let alone come out and actually do it.

“That’s not a problem, Dean,” Castiel replied, gravely, with only the briefest hint of a smile around the angel’s eyes.

Dean stared at Castiel then, silence between them broken only by Sam’s impatient shout to get moving. The moment broken, Dean turned and followed in his brother’s footsteps, Castiel by his side. For one brief instant, Dean felt the brief rush and riffle of feathers against his back, in an all too brief angelic hug.

  
**~ 4 ~**   


Sam was roused by the sounds of Dean yelling in the bed beside him, brotherly limbs thrashing as Dean was held fast in the grip of a nightmare. Sam sat up, long arm ready and poised to reach out and shake his brother awake, when Castiel stepped between the beds, effectively blocking Sam from reaching his brother. Sam had been too engrossed in the sight of a thrashing Dean to even note the arrival of Castiel, but the tension in the angel’s body was palpable.

“I will deal with this, Sam,” Castiel barked, leaving Sam no choice but to nod.

He laid back, curious as to how the angel would deal with the situation, as Dean moaned, caught in the hold of whatever images flashed through his dreaming mind. Castiel settled beside Dean, bed dipping beneath his weight as he settled upon the side of it. Sam watched, surprised, as Castiel swung his legs up onto the covered surface of the bed, as though he was all too familiar with doing so. Castiel reached out with both fingers to press the pads of two fingertips against Dean’s sweating brow. Slowly, Dean began to settle, as Castiel crooned something in Enochian, low voice gentle and soothing. Dean’s thrashing smoothed out by degrees, until he finally lay still, still caught in sleep but dreamless now.

“Go back to sleep, Sam. All is well,” Castiel commanded, an order clear in his deep voice, as he turned to pin the younger Winchester with a pointed glare.

Sam nodded, and laid back in his bed, turning away when Castiel continued to glare at him. When the angel was satisfied that Sam now slept, he wrapped one arm smoothly around Dean’s waist. Still sleeping, Dean turned into his embrace as Castiel’s wings rippled out and around him, soothing across nightmare-heated skin. Dean sighed and flung one arm carelessly around Castiel’s waist, snuggling closer, one hand curled and snarled around a bunch of feathers.

Castiel lay still, pressing kisses to Dean’s sleeping eyes and mouth, to bid him goodnight. He lay back to watch over Dean, then, to make sure no nightmares visited the mind of the sleeping Winchester. By the time morning broke, Castiel had gone, yet Dean awoke to the memory of soft angelic kisses and the warm feel of feathers surrounding him. One long black feather remained upon his pillow, left there by a visiting tan coated angel as a reminder of his late night visit. Dean smiled at that, but said nothing to Sam about his gift, stowing away the feather in his bag before his brother could see. Dean decided that the feather would be a secret kept between him and his ever watchful guardian.


End file.
